Gwen Welch–whose dad Vince and I rowed dories together in the 1980s and ’90s and worked together on our biography of Buzz Holmstrom–came through town on her way to a river trip. We took the opportunity to do a “later that same life” photograph.
John and I set up Stella’s sails with mock hardware to fine tune just what we needed to get her sailing. We have been having a hell of a time getting much response out of the few folks who actually make bronze sailing parts. They seem as uninterested in being in business as I do.
The sedimentology of the boatshop dust collector’s screen. Pretty cool art project.
Back on the river: The morning of day zero, waking up in Glen Canyon.
All the silverbacks were on the river in September. Here are five guides from the ’70s on three different trips. Jim Jacobs and I on an AzRA trip. Jimmy Hendrick on an ARR trip. Karl Ochsner and Kyle Kovalik on a private. And I’ll bet we saw at least a dozen more from this era within a few days. Not dead yet!
Nankoweap wall in the evening light.
Keelia having a moment of reflection.
Jim, Nelson, and Corey playing Chupacabra Heights.
Dennis soaking in Backeddy.
Brown meets blue at Havasu.
Lizzie painting at Blacktail.
Abduction at Havasu.
It’s a different place with that fall light.
Sunset at Tequila Beach.
Oh, and yeah, I kinda hit a rock. Straight off the Table Rock at Dubendorff. Somedays you’re the windshield, some days you’re the bug. Back to the shop with this girl.
A quick grind back in the shop, and she’s ready to dry in the loft for a month or so before we patch it. Just a flesh wound. Not dead yet.
Back home, after a couple days’ rest, we slammed Kate’s amazing boat back together (see previous post) and after a one-day recovery, hosted another of Julie Sullivan’s amazing music events. Such fine music–Secret Handshake, followed by Lucky Lenny.
It being almost November, there was a costume theme. Mozart meets the Land O’ Lakes Butter girl.
Sometime after midnight the big glass donation bowl absorbed our attentions. Ground Control to Major Tom.
Then we found you can make the bowl sing by rubbing a wet finger around the rim. Like a wine glass. Then we thought it would be cooler with candles in it. Then we decided to dump ethyl alcohol in it too.
This was a clear sign that it was time for all to go to bed. Unfortunately we didn’t.